


Come Morning Light

by romangold



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Injury, Gen, Mild Gore, No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romangold/pseuds/romangold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something under Mark's bed. Something big, with nails to tap on the floor and a mouth to breathe loudly through. Something with claws and a horrid, evil grin. Something not quite...human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Morning Light

There.

Mark's eyes were closed, yet he was no less awake. He tried to imitate a sleeping person, but his limbs wouldn't unlock and his breathing wouldn't even out entirely.

There. Again.

Just there. Below him.

The tap of fingernails on wood.

Lying on his back, Mark did his best to keep still, as if he had no idea what was going on in the land of the conscious. This was the third time he had heard evidence of a person underneath his bed. Whoever it was hadn't shown themselves. By the time morning approached the past two times, the man would search his room top to bottom, including beneath his bed.

Nothing each time.

Tonight, he was determined. There was someone there. Mark would find out who.

A different noise sounded throughout the room. Nails scraping against the wooden floor, slowly, slowly. Mark's eyes shot open in the dark. His fists clenched until they hurt. He stared at his ceiling, suddenly wishing that he didn't live alone.

The sound moved until it was next to the right side of the bed. Then it stopped.

Mark forgot how to breathe.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand reaching up to grab for purchase on the top of his bed. It had long ivory claws where human fingernails should have been. They shone in the faint moonlight that came in from the window.

The mattress dipped slightly as the hand tensed and drew up the rest of its owner. Mark couldn't help but turn his head to see.

The pale skin of a corpse. Hair so black that it made the man dizzy. The eyes were narrowed, and held no pupil or iris- they were white, just white, as if they had rolled back into its head. The mouth had been carved into a gory grin up to his ears, with blood dripping from the wounds where the lips and cheeks had been. The vulnerable tongue wagged at Mark, like it was begging for help.

But the thing smiled, it smiled, it couldn't do anything but, and it let out a growl as it reached up with its other hand to swipe at the man in the bed-

In one swift motion, Mark sat up and pulled out the baseball bat from under his blanket before whacking the thing on the side of the head with it with as much force as he could muster.

The creature flew back and lay sprawled out on the floor in a daze as Mark sprung from his bed and stood in a defensive position, the bat raised as he readied himself to swing again.

"Who are you?" he demanded, eyes on the thing that was lying on its back. "What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

The thing moaned, holding the side of its head, and sat up in the vast darkness of the room. Its face was shrouded by the shadows, so Mark turned to the beside table and switched on the lamp.

The thing gave a shout at the sudden brightness, and covered its face with its hands.

Or... _his_ hands.

It didn't have nightmare claws or veins poking out of its skin. The hands and arms were...normal. Human. As were its legs and feet. Suddenly unsure of what was going on, Mark's breathing became more erratic. "Why were you under my bed?" he demanded, taking a dominant step forward.

The creature moved its hands away from its face to glare at him. "Because that's my _job_ , you dumbass!" And where were the soulless eyes, the blood, the black hair, the hideous jack-o-lantern grin that had been carved into the skin as if the face was a pumpkin in need of some cheering up?

What Mark was looking at was a man, as old as himself. His eyes were hazel, his hair was a messy blue, dyed, his accent was American. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie, and, as angry as he seemed, he was possibly too skinny to be perceived as a threat.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Mark demanded, entirely confused. Had he been hallucinating? Was there something he had missed?

The man on the floor pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "You're not supposed to attack the monster under your bed with a baseball bat!"

The _what?_

Mark shook his head. "No such thing as monsters," he insisted, deciding that this person was insane and had somehow broken into his house just to live out some sick fantasy as a creature under a bed.

Then what was that thing that Mark had seen? That was no mask, and no makeup job. It had been unholy, but very real. Unless he was seeing things.

The man on the floor allowed his face to curl into a grin.

Then, in a wisp of smoke, he was gone.

A chill ripped itself down Mark's spine. The man was- he was _gone_. Just gone. His heart danced against his ribcage so fast it almost hurt. _Where- how-_

"Your mattress is shit, y'know that?"

Mark whipped around to find the intruder sitting cross-legged on his bed, gazing up at him with innocence in his eyes. The scent of smoke from a campfire hinted the air. "You...you..." the human spluttered, eyes wide.

"Me!" the thing exclaimed with a smile. "The handsomest monster you'll ever find under any bed!" He winked, eyes flashing a frightening pitch black before returning to their normal hazel. "Oh, and you don't need that, ya silly." With a blink, the baseball bat was leaning against the far wall.

The two men locked eyes. "Hey, that's better!" the monster assured, grin bright and lopsided. Mark was silent for a long moment before. This was a monster? He seemed entirely human, beside the earlier appearance of a soulless demon and the sudden teleportation from across the room. He was young, could have passed for innocent, a college student, an intern.

Mark felt his mind boggle at the thought. This was just too surreal.

Then the creature on the bed pulled a face. "Oh, I'm so stupid." He held out his hand, still as human as Mark's. "I'm Ethan!"

 _The creature under my bed has a name._ With a slight hesitation, the human reached forward and shook the other man's hand. "...Mark."

"Ah!" the monster said. "Mark! It's good to finally know your name. I've been coming here for about a week now. Usually I only frequent teenagers and middle-aged couples...but I heard through the grapevine that some poor soul had decided to live in this old dilapidated thing..." A wicked grin took over Ethan's face that captured Mark entirely, though he was sure it wasn't in a good way. "I just had to give them a scare!"

Mark cocked his head to the side slightly. "Why did it take you a week to actually do it?"

The cocky smile persisted. "Don't you know how to scare people? You've gotta build it up first!"

The human decided to understand this as a compliment, and smiled a little. "It was certainly an interesting way to introduce yourself."

They shared information, Mark explaining the loneliness of the house and the silence of the neighborhood, the frigid nights and melancholy mornings, the boring nights and busy afternoons. There was work, a library, and Skype calls to his friends and family. It was a dreary place, adulthood, as Mark described it, before he became eager to know more about Ethan and his world.

The monster's easy expression was ruined as he gave out a pained hiss. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, and when both men turned, it was to find the sun peeking up over the horizon, the dawn light weak but growing stronger as the day approached.

"That's my cue," the monster sighed before moving his gaze back to Mark. "I have to go, now, Mark. I'm sorry."

The human's expression was one of dread. "But I- I want to know about where you come from. What you are. I want to know about you."

Ethan simply chuckled and ruffled Mark's hair as if the human were an especially adorable puppy. "This isn't the last time we'll see each other. I can promise you that. You'll find me here tomorrow once the sun sets."

A smirk dominated Mark's face. "It's a date, then."

"Let's call it a meeting, instead."

"Yeah, that does sound better."

Ethan slipped onto the floor and began to disappear beneath the bed. Mark rested on his front and watched. The last thing the monster did before leaving was give Mark a wink.

And then he was gone, with nothing but the scent of smoke remaining.


End file.
